BEING ONE with the universe is a lot of effort. The floor is never comfortable. Assuming lotus position involves a lot of groaning and grimacing. Breath control and the vague “centering” thing only enforces awareness of discomfort. But, repeating a mantra he slowly drifts, concentrating on the smell of incense and soothing raga music. Then, a soft tap at the door. “What the fuck do you want? I’m God damn meditating!”

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